30 Day OTP Challenge
by angrysockpuppetnoises
Summary: A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love. Cross-posted to AO3. The cover image has been drawn by Macy!
1. Day One - Holding Hands

It wasn't supposed to happen like this, with a bar too full of people and too little class, with dim lights and cloudy glasses and the scent of smoke wafting through the rafters. Lingering passion and hazy conscience spelled the right type of lovely disaster for some, but for Roman Torchwick, it meant nothing more than a night away from Cinder and one less headache.

Or so he'd thought.

It was rare for the door to swing open and thunder shut, predated only by a strong scent of liquor; a scent even more potent than the drink currently being poured down the bar to his left. It was rarer still for the empty seat on his right to suddenly be occupied. The rarest thing of all came from the person in question, to wit Roman properly ignored such a presence.

An old flame, squandered away in sleepless nights and too much drink and just enough smoke so they wouldn't see each other's faces. Heady pain and a little pleasure and too much penitence to search each other out cursed their trysts, keeping them apart until the next time they each needed to forget every atrocity they committed under the guise of someone wiser.

It wasn't hard to predict his order. Bourbon on the rocks in a wide-rimmed glass so it wouldn't smack him in the face.

 _Such a pretty face. . ._

Neither of them reacted to each other as the first round came for him, and the second for Roman. Neither of them spoke, even gave a glance, as the liquor vanished into the night. His gravelly voice, slurred hard with too much too soon already, ordered more. Roman merely pulled out a fresh cigar.

Roman spun on his stool, now facing the crowd in their plush red-velvet chairs and booths, gossiping and losing themselves in the heat of mistakes. _So many mistakes. . ._

Smoke curled into the rafters, and Roman pretended not to notice as Qrow spun around too. Mimicry was the highest form of flattery, after all.

He crossed his legs, right over left. It was only proper. Qrow followed suit. The sound of ice clinking as a glass was set down meant nothing.

Qrow let his right hand hang low in the space in between them. The other was occupied in supporting his head as his gaze swept across the room.

Everyone was drunk.

Roman let his left hand fall down, knuckles brushing against Qrow's. His red eyes snapped over to Roman, before falling off to the wayside. Roman pretended not to notice Qrow's frown. Roman kept his own bored gaze forward, posture perfectly leisurely. Only the tiniest of bitter smiles escaped Roman as the smoke and sound and sin obscured any sign of forlorn camaraderie between the pair.

And besides, it wasn't like they were in Mistral, where anyone could make a donation to the Arachne Fund at any time they damned well pleased.

Qrow intertwined their fingers first, re-crossing his legs and leaning back on the bar. Roman blew out another puff of acrid smoke, closing his eyes.

There was a squeeze. A split second passed. Roman returned it.

Neither of them spoke, but they didn't need to, anyways. Sometimes, it was just better to let it all get lost in the haze. They'd each learned that lesson a thousand times before in a thousand different ways.

Just their luck to need to learn it again.


	2. Day Two - Cuddling

Qrow shut the door to Roman's penthouse with a sigh, rolling his shoulders and unhooking Harbinger from the small of his back. Taking care to lock the door, Qrow turned to the room at large, setting his jaw at the sight. If there was ever something he and Roman disagreed on, it was how much stuff one needed to own. And Roman was ever ostentatious. He dropped Harbinger next to Roman's cane, which was leaning on the brick of the penthouse's fireplace. Qrow wouldn't've been surprised if the damned thing had never been lit in the first place.

Roman lounged in the center of the room on his off-white couch like a diva, clicking through the channels of the TV perched atop the mantle. Qrow didn't care to pay attention to whatever Roman was watching once he stopped.

"I'm back," he said, as if it was necessary.

Roman slid his gaze over to Qrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I can see that. How was your mission?"

Qrow shrugged and headed off to the adjacent kitchen as Roman turned back to the TV. Qrow missed Roman's grin widening as someone began babbling on the TV - not that Qrow cared to listen to it, anyways. "Mission happened. Not much more to say," Qrow said, squatting down behind the island counter so he could open Roman's drinks cabinet. "Killed some Grimm. Same old, same old." He grabbed a bottle and stood, kicking the cabinet closed as he turned to another. Glasses rustled as Qrow sifted through them, eventually choosing one to his liking.

"Fascinating."

Qrow turned back to face the living room, hoisting the bottle and glass. "Want some?"

"No, thank you."

Qrow shrugged and set the bottle of scotch down, followed by the glass. It didn't take long for him to uncork it and pour some out, filling the glass to his fancy before putting the bottle back in Roman's cabinet. A sickening rumble later, several chunks of ice fell into his glass from Roman's fridge, causing the kingpin to perk up and narrow his eyes at Qrow.

"Was that the Dust one or the filtered one?"

Qrow leaned back against the island counter, squinting a bit at the fridge's panel before making his way back to Roman. "Filtered, I think. Why?"

"Dust prices," Roman said, settling back down on the couch, one arm at an angle to support his head. "Saving it for if I ever have company."

A million different possibilities ran through Qrow's mind at that, causing a grimace to form on his face. "Lovely," he muttered, before leaning over the back of the couch to stare down at Roman. "Isn't that your fault, anyways?"

Roman waved him off. "Details, details."

Qrow blew out a puff of air, flicking his gaze up to Roman's TV. There was an auction show on, with a roundtable of different gems, necklaces, rings, and bracelets. The man on the show was currently trying to sell the viewers on some kind of multi-colored sapphire chain.

The address of the auction house was in the bottom left of the screen.

" **No** ," Qrow said, glaring down at Roman. Roman looked up at Qrow, fake innocence shining from his emerald eye.

"Hm?~"

Qrow lightly bapped Roman's head, doubling down on his frown. "I said 'no'."

"Oh, come on, they're so pretty," Roman replied, one hand coming up to fix his hair. "I'm sure they wouldn't miss a few."

"What would you even do with them?" Qrow asked, taking a tired sip of his scotch.

"Give 'em to you," Roman teased, smirking. "Saw a nice few silver rings a minute or two ago."

Qrow huffed and took another swig. "Still no."

He blinked, taking himself out of his glass as he felt Roman's hand grab his shirt by the lapel. Qrow's eyes found Roman's, mischievous and mesmerizing and all sorts of sultry. "Get down here then, and convince me not to."

Qrow grinned, his lips curling up into a wolfish smile. "No problem."

He pulled back from Roman's grip, making his way around the couch and passing in front of Roman's view of the TV. Qrow set his drink down on the low crystal table -also probably stolen, who was he kidding- and flipped himself into Roman's lap, now straddling the younger man.

"How's this?"

Roman's only reply was to grab Qrow by the collar again, pulling him down and into a kiss. "Mmm~. Acceptable."

Qrow fake-pouted as he broke from the kiss, crossing his arms as he leaned back on Roman's thighs. "Only acceptable?"

"Lay with me."

Qrow rolled his eyes but shimmied into position, kicking his shoes off as he did so. Roman hated it when shoes got on the furniture. 'Case in point,' Qrow thought, as Roman wrapped his right leg around Qrow's own, not a boot to be found. Qrow sighed and laid his head on Roman's chest, flicking his gaze back over to the TV.

"Can you at least not plan robberies when I'm here?" Qrow asked, beleaguered, as Roman wrapped an arm around his torso. Qrow wiggled a bit, getting into a more comfortable position as their bodies intertwined in the softest type of intimacy.

"What would you prefer?" Roman replied, picking up the remote once more.

Qrow glanced over to the clock in the kitchen, hm-ing a bit. "It's about like, twenty-one hundred, right? I think the good horror movies come on around now. I've always loved those."

Roman pretended the light shiver at the utterly delighted tone Qrow's voice had taken on hadn't happened. "Never took you for the horror type," he said delicately, passing over the remote so Qrow could flip through the channels and find one he liked. The Huntsman immediately punched a few buttons and brought up the menu, heading for the search icon.

"Oh, yeah. Liked 'em since I first saw 'em in Beacon. Had loads of fun mocking all the characters with Rae. Like, seriously, just dodge!" Qrow cracked a genuine smile and switched his gaze back over to Roman, whose expression had turned to one of decided indifference. Qrow's own face fell in return, a small, resigned note entering his voice. "What, you don't like horror?"

"I simply don't see the point in causing more terror when the Grimm already exist," Roman said, shrugging and resettling on the couch. He waved an imperious hand. "Do as you please."

"Oh, come on, don't bullshit me," Qrow retorted, setting the remote down, turning his neck slightly to gaze up at Roman. "You're a major criminal, you can't rea -" Qrow cut himself off, eyes going wide with realization. "Oh, by the Brothers."

Qrow's smirk just begged to be slapped off of him, and Roman barely resisted the temptation. "Can't what?" Roman asked, doing his best to remain detached in voice and body. It didn't work.

"You're scared of horror movies."

He froze. "I am not -"

"Oh, you totally are. That's adorable. Roman Torchwick, criminal mastermind extraordinaire, can't handle horror."

"Shut up," Roman hissed, turning an undignified shade of red that he would forevermore swear hadn't happened. "I just don't like them."

Qrow, the bastard, hadn't stopped smiling. "Aww, babe, that's fine," he said, grin growing even more wicked. "I'll protect you.~"

It took everything Roman had not to shove Qrow off of him, and then, for good measure, shove Qrow off the balcony only a few sweet feet away. But, knowing him, Qrow would survive by some insane feat that Roman could never hope to understand, and then be back minutes later to torment him again. So instead, Roman chose to grit his teeth and turn his head away from Qrow's mirth-filled gaze.

Maybe if he did it several times, Qrow'd run out of Aura. But then, how to convince Qrow to fall for it twice. . .

Qrow touched Roman's still-pinkened cheek, interrupting that murderous train of thought and causing Roman to cut his eyes back over to him. Qrow's smile was gentler, now, but that didn't mean Roman trusted it for any more than a split second. "You're pretty cute when you're embarrassed, y'know that?"

He should've shoved him. "Go fuck yourself."

Qrow chuckled, low and dark, before sitting up and stretching. "Thought that was your job," he teased, before picking the remote up and finally selecting a movie. Qrow stood, and Roman was quick to sit up in riposte, swatting at Qrow's rear. Qrow shot a smirk over his shoulder at Roman as he walked over to the light-switch, flicking it off and plunging the room into the natural Valian darkness. "Don't worry," Qrow said as he returned, plopping a kiss on Roman's head as he sat on the kingpin's left. "You're cute all the time."

Roman rolled his eyes as Qrow shuffled down on the couch, now laying flat with his legs wrapped around Roman's waist. Taking his cue, Roman thusly laid down on Qrow, his head over the Huntsman's heart. Unfortunately for Roman, that angle gave him ample view of the TV, which now had the introductory credits rolling. He took that chance to shuffle into a more comfortable position, pointedly ignoring Qrow's inane smirk and the ominous music.

"What's wrong? Seen this one before?" Qrow asked, reaching over to grab his drink and finish it off.

"Why would I watch something I don't like?" Roman retorted, before sighing. "No, I haven't. Which is the problem."

Qrow set his empty glass down, and Roman gave a thankful sigh that Qrow had at least used one of the coasters already on his table. As cheap as free was, crystal wasn't exactly easy to come by. "I've got you," Qrow said, wrapping his left arm around Roman.

"How reassuring."

Qrow rolled his eyes, threading his legs through Roman's in what was clearly both a sweet attempt at comfort, and a nefarious attempt at trapping him. "You'll be fiiiiine, pumpkin."

Roman merely hmpf'd in return, resigning himself to a night of flinching and cursing and maybe just kicking Qrow out of revenge. If Roman got out of this with any stress marks, he was kicking Qrow out for a week, at least.

Roman repressed a shiver as the movie itself began, burrowing himself in Qrow's embrace. At least he was doing all the proper good boyfriend things - holding him tight, rubbing his back, warning him when the scariest parts would come on.

Maybe, just maybe, Qrow had been right.


	3. Day Three - First Meeting

"Uh, sir?"

Roman sighed, closing his eyes. Every damn time he tried to slip away for a moment of peace. . . Slowly, he lowered his lighter, removing the fresh cigar from his lips. Roman unclenched his jaw and turned around, turning the corner to walk back to the scene of his most recent crime. A Faunus was standing nervous in front of him, damn near quaking in her boots. Perry stood next to her, rolling his eyes behind his thick glasses. Several of their companions were loading boxes of Dust into a get-away truck.

"What could possibly be so import -" Roman began to ask, twirling his cigar in his fingers. He didn't get a chance to finish his question.

"There's been a Huntsman sighting in this area," Perry said, interrupting him and getting right to the point. If there was any Faunus Roman liked, it was Perry. He didn't waste any time and did the job right from the beginning.

"How?" Roman hissed, eyes narrowing. He shoved his cigar and lighter in his pocket, pulling out his Scroll a moment later.

"W-we think it was civilian," the other Faunus, some type of horned thing, reported. "Jade saw a curtain flash and the current suspicion was that the person called the police, who called in the Hunter."

"Fantastic," Roman muttered, pulling up Cinder's contact and sending her a quick message to update her on the situation. He snapped his gaze back up at Perry, now frowning. "Grab whatever else you can and be out of here within the next five minutes. You leave, or I leave you for the Hunter."

Roman spun on his heel, not even bothering to catch Perry's nod as he led the other Faunus back to the truck. He had an area to search.

The streets were too calm for Roman's liking. Normally, there was some drunk or some prostitute or some idiot kid sneaking home from a night at a friend's house that went on too long. Faunus running from hate crimes. Police patrol. Hunters-in-Training learning the city.

Fucking anything except utter stillness.

Roman cursed under his breath and sighed, placing his head in his palm. Maybe it'd been a false alarm. It wasn't like it'd hurt them to get away from a crime scene as quickly as possible. Roman gave one last glancing sweep of the area before beginning to make his way back to his robbery.

The truck wasn't there.

Roman paused, blinked, and refused to run. Very slowly, cane clacking with every step, Roman took purposeful strides to where the vehicle had been parked. Tire tracks clearly led in the direction of where their base lay, and there was no scent of blood nor sight of body.

But there was the distinct feeling that he was being watched.

Roman stood to his full height, taking careful consideration of the buildings around him. Brick with no sign of a struggle. A flock of birds on the rafters. Drawn curtains and barely a breeze to be found. A broken window, his expert work. Which the Faunus had left him to take the fall for. Bastards.

Keeping his back to the wall, Roman slipped down the alley his truck had taken, navigating his way to the center of the alley-scape. Roman had known the backstreets of Vale for years, committing them to memory as soon as he had made his way into the city-state to make his mark. The flock of birds took to the sky.

Roman took a right as sirens began to blare in the distance, mentally mapping his way through the city. He needed the quickest, safest route. . .

One that, preferably, didn't have him being followed. Roman turned, raising Melodic Cudgel in his hands at the last possible second to block the incoming blow. He slid backward several feet, but remained standing as his assailant landed on the ground just where Roman himself had stood not a moment ago. Roman frowned, switching Melodic Cudgel into his right hand and tilting his head back to get a better view of the man now in front of him.

"So you're the Hunter."

Roman didn't get an answer as the man charged him, bouncing off of the wall to slam into him once more. Roman smirked, going on the defensive and parrying every strike that was thrown at him. He grunted as he was shoved back several more feet by a powerful blow, setting his jaw after the impact had rocked through him and his weapon. It was an unfortunate situation for Roman; the red-eyed man had an advantage in reach, height, and strength. Probably experience too, as he stood back, smirking in his own right. Roman had little options left.

"Let me guess. You're not gonna let me go, are you?"

He still didn't speak, pausing only to frown before lunging at Roman at a blinding clip that he barely managed to dodge. Roman stabbed with Melodic Cudgel, aiming for the kidneys. The man practically pirouetted, slipping past his jab and countering with a kick to Roman's head.

Roman leaned back, letting the kick sail past his head. The man immediately brought his sword down, aiming to cleave Roman's chest in two. Roman dropped to the ground, rolled to the side, and let the ground itself take the blow. The concrete shattered, and Roman leapt to his feet, not hesitating to open Melodic Cudgel's scope and fire off a shot at point-blank range.

Roman didn't wait to see if the blast had landed, peeling off into the leftmost alleyway. Police sirens rang in his ears as his explosion rocked through the buildings, shaking foundation and dust loose.

He slid to the left as a sword swept through the night air, slamming into a wall and letting his Aura tank the impact. Roman's hand came up and gripped his upper right arm, the cloth of his jacket now in tatters. At least it hadn't broken skin.

The Hunter stood opposite to him, and Roman only smiled at him before taking off once more. Several shots rang into the night, and Roman snapped back into position, his cane blocking each bullet before they could hit him. The Hunter snapped his sword back into proper position, and Roman didn't bother looking down either alley, not that he had the time to. The Hunter shot forward again, and Roman raised Melodic Cudgel to parry the strike.

He snapped back a riposte to the head, turning the Hunter's blade to the side so he couldn't counter Roman's jab. At the same time, Roman kicked his leg up, aiming for the Hunter's side. Neither blow landed, as the Hunter leapt backward, bringing his sword back up at the same time, pointed right at Roman's throat.

Melodic Cudgel was raised at the same moment, their weapons inches from each other and their arms parallel. Roman moved first, setting off a firework in the Hunter's chest. He ducked under the sword before it could slice into his neck, and darted down the right alley.

Roman didn't make it far.

Hell, he didn't even get a chance to turn around.

The Hunter slammed into the back of his knee, moving faster than Roman could've ever expected him to be able to. Roman fell flat on his back, his forward momentum turned against him. Before he could kip up to his feet, the Hunter was on top of his lap, breathing labored. He didn't have his weapon -Roman took that as a small victory-, but it didn't matter. As Roman had expected, the Hunter was much, much stronger than he. Roman's arms were pulled up and above his head, one hand on each side of his skull, pinned down at the wrists.

"Well, aren't you kinky,~" he teased, unable to look away from the Hunter's burning red eyes. "Do I at least get your name?"

The Huntsman paused, glancing over to the side. "Qrow Branwen. Doesn't matter."

Well, now he had a name. Roman smirked, and Qrow only pressed him harder into the ground. The sirens grew closer, their whine cutting through the night and piercing his ears. Roman winced slightly, before giving Qrow an innocent smile.

"You know, I'm not sure the police will enjoy finding us like this.~"

"Don't think I'll just let you g -"

Roman leaned up, cutting Qrow off before he could finish his threat. Qrow's hands went slack around Roman's wrists, and Roman took the opportunity to free a hand and wrap it around the back of Qrow's head, keeping him in the kiss. Roman slid out from under Qrow, now kneeling in front of him. Qrow remained in the same position, eyes opening in shock as Roman moved Qrow's hands in-between their bodies, now pinning him. Roman pulled back, slightly breathless as Qrow kneeled there in open-mouthed shock.

"I -"

"Nice meeting you," Roman said, smoothly sliding to his feet and taking a few steps back. He reached down and grabbed Melodic Cudgel, eyes heavy with lust. Roman licked his lips, swinging his hips as he moved into the darkness of the alleyway. Roman shot a glance over his shoulder, unable to keep a smirk from forming as he saw Qrow reach up to his lips with trembling fingers.

"Maybe I'll be seeing you around, chickadee.~"


	4. Day Four - A Date

_Monday, February 4th, PGW78, King's Park, Commercial Section of Vale, 0:12 Hours._

A small 'thump' echoed in the night, breaking the stillness of the trees with the rustle of branches and stirring of leaves. Roman Torchwick looked up from his Scroll, eyes narrowing as he sat atop a blanket on a small hill in the center of the park. He raised an eyebrow as the noise continued. _Crunch, crunch, crunch_ went the careless, confident footsteps, a mocking act of incompetence for anything too stupid to attack.

It wasn't like the Hunter's Guild allowed any Grimm to leak in from Forever Fall to King's Park, anyways, but Roman couldn't begrudge Qrow for trying to bait out any attackers. ' _It's not like I'd do any different_ ,' Roman thought with a small, tight smile. It soon blossomed into something more, however, as the Hunter himself emerged from the underbrush. Qrow's hands were stuffed in his pockets and his lips were twisted in his usual pouty frown. Qrow's gaze swept across the park, and once his eyes landed on Roman he jerked his chin up as if it passed as some form of proper greeting.

Roman sat up straight, setting his Scroll to the side as he raked his eyes up and down Qrow's form. Qrow's sword hung heavy on his back, but what else was he to expect? Melodic Cudgel was only an arm's reach away from Roman himself, after all. Roman grinned up at Qrow, motioning the Huntsman closer with his left hand and patting the empty space next to him with his right. "Well, fancy seeing you here. I almost didn't expect you to come."

Qrow didn't disappoint. "I'm alone," he affirmed, eyes narrowing. "Just like you asked."

"What, would you prefer company?" Roman asked, turning up his nose with a scoff.

Qrow set his jaw, sighing and shifting his stance. "Right," he conceded, glancing around one last time before heading up the slight incline to meet Roman. King's Park had been established as an area in honor of the late King of Vale after the Great War, with fountains and pathways and secluded little groves - just like this one. Qrow couldn't help but sigh as he lowered himself next to Roman, tossing his head back and gazing up at the sky. Shattered moonlight fell on them both, bathing the clearing in a dappled silver sheen.

"So, what do you want?" Qrow asked after a moment had passed, cutting his eyes over to Roman. The kingpin merely shrugged in response, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the moon, mimicking Qrow's pose.

"Just wanted to spend some time with you," Roman answered after a pause, not really meeting Qrow's eyes. "It's not like there's much time we can get to ourselves." He gestured to a small basket on his left, and Qrow peered around Roman's torso to see a bottle of wine in a bag and two glasses. His lips twitched up in a smile; as much as Qrow didn't trust Roman, the man at least knew how to get him happy.

"As much as I don't wanna be doing this, I'll take a glass," Qrow said, leaning back and pretending not to notice the flash of resignation in Roman's eye. As Roman poured, Qrow got a good look at the man's back. For once, his signature coat was cast by the wayside, leaving Roman in a tight black shirt that was _very_ kind to his muscular structure. But that didn't detract from the pale slope of his neck, the flash of hip as his shirt rode up when he bent over to grab the drink, the gentle curve of his ear. . .

Qrow shook his head, taking a breath and trying to clear his thoughts. Everything about this was _wrong_ , there were no bones about it, yet the truth remained: Roman Torchwick was an unfairly attractive man. Qrow sighed as he accepted the glass of wine from Roman, fighting back a shiver as their Auras brushed over each other. Gods, his was so _warm_.

Qrow downed half his glass in one go, ignoring the huff of annoyance from Roman, who, in turn, had politely sipped his own. "You're _supposed_ to savor it," he scolded, which Qrow also ignored.

"If you brought me here to get me tipsy, you're gonna need a lot more than that," Qrow said, shooting Roman a sleazy smile. "Grigio isn't gonna get me drunk."

Roman's mouth fell open into a surprised little 'o', his head snapping back over to the bottle. "I - how did you know that!" he demanded, swiveling back to Qrow, confusion shining in his eye. Yet Qrow could still see the slight tinge of awe buried deep behind that emerald sheen.

"I know what I'm about, and this -" Qrow hefted his half-empty glass, "tastes like lime." Qrow leaned back, now half lying down, and took another sip. "Figured it had to be Grigio." He raised an eyebrow at Roman, lips set in a confused frown and brows furrowing. "I would've taken you more for a Chardonnay fan, actually."

"Too common," Roman shot back with a scowl, before taking a sip of his own drink. He lowered his glass, letting his eyes wander over Qrow's body. A wry smile slipped onto his lips. "I have, ah - _unique_ tastes."

"Yeah, I'm pretty fuckin' unique," Qrow muttered sourly, downing another fourth of his wine. Roman rolled his eyes and put his own glass aside, reaching into the basket to grab the bottle and top off Qrow's. As he did so, Qrow met Roman's eyes, nearly causing him to spill the drink from the intensity of his gaze. An embarrassed silence later, Roman had corked the bottle and put it back, hiding his slight blush. "I have a question," Qrow said when Roman finally picked up his glass again, getting the man to focus all his attention on the Hunter laid before him.

"Go on," Roman said, raising an imperious eyebrow. He took another sip.

"Why me? Out of all the people you know, why ask a _Huntsman_ on- on -" Qrow floundered for a moment before finding his words. "On what's basically a moonlit _date_?"

Roman flushed now, and Qrow barely restrained a curse. He could only hope it was the wine getting to him more than he expected, even though Qrow knew that couldn't be true. He'd only had what, a glass and a half? No, the truth was, quite simply, that in the moonlight and wine and such a lovely shade of red, Roman Torchwick of all people looked downright amazing.

 _Gods, if only Qrow could turn him that shade. . ._

Roman was speaking, and Qrow pulled himself out of his lustful trance to pay attention. Roman traced the edge of his glass with a finger - ungloved for once. Roman's hands were pale and thin, belying the strength and dexterity Qrow knew they possessed. " - and I'm not the type of man to resist temptation," Roman finished, flicking his gaze back up to Qrow.

There was a slight smile there. Qrow returned it.

Qrow held up his glass for a fake toast, and Roman clinked his own against it with a musical chime.

The glass didn't break.

Qrow let his eyes flutter shut in relief, breathing out a sigh before taking another sip. There'd been too many close calls already, putting Qrow on a dangerous edge. He rubbed his eyes, downing more of his drink so he didn't have to think about it and spiral even deeper. Emotions to Aura to Semblance to him fucking up to -

"Want more?" Roman asked, breaking Qrow out of his spell. Qrow blinked and looked up, holding out his glass out once again. Grateful for the opportunity to simply _not think_ , Qrow leaned on one arm, parallel to the ground as he stared at Roman. 'The man's a damned tempter,' Qrow thought, unable to resist leering as Roman shifted, grabbing the bottle so he could pour him more. Roman turned back, now cross-legged to keep the glass still as he let the wine flow, and Qrow pretended that Roman wasn't sitting like that on purpose.

"Might as well keep the bottle out," Roman teased as he passed the glass back. Qrow smiled up at him, taking a drink before setting it down. Roman gently topped off his own before setting the bottle aside, and shimmying down to lay next to Qrow.

Qrow grinned back, but it didn't last. "I -" he fell silent and sighed, looking down at the blanket he and Roman were atop.

"Let me guess," Roman began, speaking for him. Qrow's gaze flicked up. Roman's bittersweet smile gave him nothing to work with, but his words more than filled in the gaps. "We're on different sides, and we can't see each other."

"Pretty much," Qrow affirmed, grabbing his glass and swallowing more down. Something inside him burned, and it wasn't poison.

"I raise another option. We don't."

Qrow's brow furrowed, and he sat up slightly, shoving his glass to the side. Some sloshed on the blanket, but he didn't care. "Isn' tha -"

Before Qrow continued his slurred sentence, Roman's hand touched his cheek. He too had set his glass aside, and Qrow blinked as Roman held his chin. "I propose we do _this_ ," Roman said, and before Qrow got a question out, Roman's lips had met his.

Just like with their first kiss, Qrow went slack in Roman's grip. However, before he even reacted, Roman had pulled back. "And nothing more. Meet up. Fuck. Go about our business."

Heat rose in Qrow's cheeks. "Who said I'd fuck you?"

Roman's predatory smile sent a thrill through Qrow in a way he hadn't even known was possible. "I like your thinking, _chickadee_ ," he teased with a wink. Something intense, hot, an ultimately unfamiliar gathered in Qrow's chest, skipping a beat in his heart and drying his mouth. Roman kept talking without a care in the world. "Don't pretend like you weren't looking. I know I'm fantastic. So, I say we have our fun and go about our merry way, with none the wiser." Roman looked down at Qrow, who licked his lips reflexively in thought. "We're both the type of man to keep secrets, Qrow Branwen."

"I -"

"I'm not saying agree _now_ ," Roman interrupted, before Qrow shot him down. "Just an option." His voice changed from grandiose to gentle, and that visible eye with the expert mascara softened. Roman looked over to the side. "Something to consider."

". . . I can consider it," Qrow decided, after a pause. He shot a smirk up at Roman. "I'm taking the rest of the Grigio as insurance, though."

Roman's laugh wasn't as maniacal as the witnesses described it. Low and deadly, sure, but a hint of genuine entertainment colored his mirth, and the smile he gave in Qrow tugged one out of his lips in return. "You can have it," Roman reassured. "But I want another kiss."

"I think that can be arranged.~"


	5. Day Five - Kissing

Unlike the rest of Vale, Roman Torchwick's study was a quiet place. The large room, what with its plush cream carpet and deep oaken furniture, spoke volumes about Roman's expensive taste. Shelved books lined left wall, but the right was all glass; ornate metalwork lined the panes and kept the structure sound, but also allowed the soft mid-morning sunlight to stream into the office. Unfortunately, the atmosphere of the Upper Class District wasn't something Roman was in the mood to enjoy. Instead, the kingpin sat in his chair behind his deck, head in the palms of his hands. Cinder, as usual, was being a right pain in the ass.

Roman groaned and threw his head back, pushing his chair away from his desk and standing. He needed a smoke, his report be damned. Cinder could learn to wait a few hours. Roman swept out from behind his desk, not bothering to push his chair in. With the door slamming behind him, Roman exited his study and made his way down the small hallway. He took the white wrought iron steps two at a time, stalking through the main lounge of his penthouse and out to his balcony.

Qrow looked up from the couch, sitting up from where he'd been lounging. "Babe?" he called out, setting his drink down on Roman's crystal table. "You alright?"

Roman waved him off, sliding open the door to his balcony and stepping outside. Qrow watched Roman pull out his lighter as the door shut, and then one of his Atlesian cigars. Frowning, Qrow stood, rolling his shoulders back and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Might as well check up on him, right?

"Heyyy, pumpkin," Qrow said cautiously, sliding open the door after Roman. He'd given Roman a few minutes to himself before following, and Roman had taken that time to lean over the railing. Ash fell from his cigar, scattering in the wind. "Everything okay?"

With a soft clack, the sliding glass door closed behind Qrow, and he made his way over to Roman. He sighed as he leaned over the railing, taking a quick look behind him. Thank the Brothers, the doors hadn't cracked. Qrow braced his elbow on the railing and his hand on his chin, cutting his gaze back to Roman.

If Qrow was being frank, Roman looked terrible. His mascara was smudged, and deep bags hung under his eye. Instead of answering Qrow's question, he took another drag of the cigar. Roman blew the smoke out into the Valian sky, staring into it as if it would answer for him.

"Roman?" Qrow asked again.

The man in question dropped his head, his hair swinging in front of his face so he didn't have to look Qrow in the eye. "Nothing we can talk about," Roman muttered, pushing himself to his full height and taking another drag of tobacco.

Qrow frowned, turning to the cityscape at large and leaning over the railing. Roman's penthouse really had a great view; it faced the ocean between Solitas and Sanus, and if Qrow looked to his right, he could see the vague outline of Beacon, standing proud over all of Vale. But the skyline alone couldn't serve to distract him from the heavy reminder that he and Roman, were, for all intents and purposes, still enemies.

Qrow groaned and ducked his head, wishing he had something to bang it against. His drink still laid on the table inside, though. . . 'Small mercies,' Qrow decided, standing up again. As he turned back to the door, he saw Roman leaned against the brick wall, arms and legs crossed with his cigar hanging loose in his fingers. Damn. He'd come out to comfort Roman, not just visit and fuck off.

Qrow wet his lips and sighed, leaning back-first against the railing. "Anything I can do?"

Roman shrugged.

"Helpful," Qrow muttered, staring down at the street below. A few couples milled about, and sleek cars raced along the slicker streets. Qrow blinked as a small eureka moment hit him, and he turned to Roman with a smile. He jerked his head in the direction of the lounge. "Want a pick-me-up?"

Roman refocused on him and shook his head. "Sorry, chickadee, can't afford to get drunk right now."

"Waaasn't exactly referring to that kind," Qrow said, approaching Roman until they stood chest-to-chest. Qrow's usual sleazy smile was in place, and one hand found Roman's hip. The other grabbed Roman's right wrist, and he smiled back. There was a sizzle, and some ash fell onto the slate beneath their feet. Qrow's grip slackened, and Roman slipped the cigar back in his pocket. No amount of Huntsman was going to make him waste an Atlesian cigar.

"I think I have a bit of time," Roman allowed, wrapping his now-free hands around Qrow's neck. It didn't take long for the Hunter to initiate a kiss, pressing their lips together before Roman could say anything else.

The taste of tobacco and passionfruit always followed Roman, and today was no different. Over time, Qrow had gotten used to the flavors - they were so distinctly _Roman_ that any other combination would've taken him aback.

His technique, on the other hand, always left Qrow gasping. The hand on Roman's hip had been pinned between their bodies, his left soon following. Roman's strength had never failed to surprise Qrow, especially since his hands had the appearance of a delicate maiden's. Just one of his hands had enough strength to keep Qrow's together, and the other was busy holding his head in place. Qrow wouldn't've had it any other way, tilting his head to the side to allow Roman access to his neck.

"Gods, can you take this inside?" Qrow whimpered as Roman moved down toward his chest. If anything pleased Roman about Qrow's sloppy outfit, it was the fact that his undone shirt gave him plenty of easy access whenever Roman pleased.

Smirking, Roman drew back, eyeing Qrow with a gleam as he dropped his hands. Something mischievous shone in that emerald sheen, and Qrow barely had time to follow as he recollected himself. He'd never get over how good a kisser Roman was. "Sure," Roman said, smooth as a whistle. He slipped past Qrow, pausing only to press another quick peck against his lovers lips. Roman swept open the door, tossing a smile over his shoulder. Qrow gaped at him, utterly betrayed. He hadn't meant _leave him outside_!

"You were right, chickadee. I really did need that.~"


	6. Day Six - Clothes Swap

Roman groaned and slid out from under his covers, sitting on the edge of his bed and stretching in the chilled evening air. Conversely, on the other side of his half-poster bed, Qrow rolled over and pressed his face into a pillow, groaning into the feathered down. Roman barely resisted a smirk at the sight, choosing instead to reach over and shake his bedmate by the shoulder.

"Come on, we might as well get up," Roman scolded, yet didn't put any real effort in his tone. His own muscles ached - the good kind of sore that would linger for the next few hours. Roman knew Qrow had gotten the worst -or the best, depending on how one looked at it- of their tryst a few hours ago, but that didn't give him the right to sleep the evening away and leave Roman by his lonesome. "We still need to eat, Qrow."

One long-suffering groan later, Qrow had rolled out of bed and was searching amongst the pristine carpet. Roman paid him no mind, too busy pulling on his own pair of pants.

He blinked, however, as the trousers ended up far too long in the leg. "Shit," Roman muttered under his breath, shoving the pants off. "Qrow," he called over his shoulder with a put-upon sigh. How could he have forgotten they undressed on his side of the bed? "I accidentally gra -" Roman paused as he turned around to address Qrow, cocking his head. With not a care in the world, Qrow had put on Roman's pants, and while they were short on him, they also happened to hug his ass in fantastic fashion.

Roman decided to shut up.

"Hm?" Qrow asked, his voice slurred from sleep. "Wassup?"

"Don't worry about it," Roman said, placing the trousers on the bed and moving over to his dresser. "We just swapped pants by mistake." He waved Qrow off before the older man could speak, grabbing a pair of black sweatpants from Qrow's drawer. Roman wasn't going to dirty any of his own dress pants, but he was more than fine with wearing some of Qrow's comfortable clothes. "You can wear them."

"Oh. Uh, thanks, I guess," Qrow mumbled, then yawned and stretched. "Mind if I take your shirt, too? It's closer."

Roman shrugged and stood back up, tugging on the sweatpants. He turned around, only to grin as he witnessed Qrow pull his black, knitted shirt over his head. Qrow really was a handsome man, and Roman appreciated how every inch of his shirt showed off Qrow's muscular frame. Even with messy, sexed-up bedhead, Qrow had a certain charm about him.

Qrow nodded at Roman in thanks, never being the type to talk after just waking up. He tossed his own shirt at Roman as he rounded the bed, grabbing _his_ pants and tossing them in the hamper that stood just inside the ensuite bathroom door.

Roman raised an eyebrow. "What, you want me to wear this?"

"Matches your scarf. Gray works," Qrow called over his shoulder, heading into the bathroom. The faucet had evidently been turned on, as the sound of running water reached Roman's ears.

"It's an _ascot_ ," Roman corrected with a frown, but pulled on Qrow's shirt nonetheless. His clipped-on cape hung over a chair, but Roman didn't bother to grab it, choosing to do up the buttons instead. He leaned in the doorway, finishing up the buttons as he spoke. "Should we make dinner? I think I have some leftover Atlesian char."

Qrow stood to his full height and stretched a second time, and Roman couldn't help but leer. "Sounds good. You still have that Prosecco?"

"I should, unless you drank it all when I wasn't looking."

Qrow shot him a cocky smirk and sidled out of the bathroom, rolling his shoulders back. "I'll pour us a few glasses, then.~"

Roman rolled his eyes and headed into the bathroom to freshen up. He stopped to look at himself in the mirror, a small smile slipping onto his face. While it most certainly wasn't his usual fashion sense -in fact, it looked rather sloppy-, Roman couldn't help but enjoy the classic 'boyfriend look'. Roman reached a hand up to fix his hair, sighing as he drank in Qrow's scent.

Alcohol, musk, and the slight tang of blood that Qrow hadn't managed to wash out from endless Hunting missions clung to the shirt, and Roman wouldn't've had it any other way.


	7. Day Seven - A Third Wheel

_Thursday, February 7th, PGW79, La Belle de l'Ange, Commercial Section of Vale, 15:27 Hours._

"I'll be back soon," Roman reassured him, placing his folded napkin down to the direct left of his plate. "Nature calls and all that."

Qrow nodded and slouched back on his chair, letting Roman head off to the restaurant's bathroom. As soon as he was out of eyesight, Qrow kicked up the legs, leaning against the wall behind him. The lunch rush was nearly over, and only a few couples lingered, just as Roman had predicted. Roman knew the Commercial section better than Qrow did, and loved taking the man out to meals. Qrow hardly had the chance to enjoy the city as often as he had during his Beacon days, after all. Roman's knowledge of the city, however, came at the cost of his career as a master thief, which was a fact that Qrow had to push to the back of his mind as to not let it ruin their day. He sighed at the thought, and cast his gaze to the left to peer out into the street.

The sun shone on the sidewalk, on the cars and couples, on the foot traffic and vendors, and, unfortunately, on the form of one General James Ironwood, the sight of which promptly gave Qrow a heart attack. His chair fell forward, ducking Qrow out of sight of the window, but the General had already spotted him.

Barely a minute had passed before the door swung open, and the poor hostess had been politely denied as James stalked over to Qrow.

"Where have you been?" he asked, getting straight to the point. "I've been trying to contact you all day. I'm _just_ getting back from an exhibition -"

"Here," Qrow interrupted, glaring at James, who had taken a seat during his spiel. "I've been here, having lunch, for the past half hour." He lowered his voice and leaned across the table, staring James right in the eye. "I know Oz doesn't need me until tonight, and I'm not gonna turn my Scroll on just so I can be at _your_ beck and call."

"Oh, so for once you learn manners?" James asked, sitting straight up and raising an eyebrow. Qrow glared back in response, setting his jaw.

"I can be polite to people I actually respect," Qrow hissed, temper flaring. "And right now, _you're_ on my shit list, _Jimmy_. Get lost."

The General's eyes narrowed, and he refused to budge. "Not until you actually _listen_ to me for once, Qrow. I'll leave you to your -" Ironwood flicked his eyes down at the table, and then back up to Qrow, crossing his arms. " _meal_ when I'm done. Whoever you're with can wait."

Qrow's expression turned dark. "I'm not kicking R-" Qrow floundered for a second before recovering, " _them_ to the curb just because you can't wait for a mission debriefing. I'll talk to you, Glyn, and Oz later tonight."

James' expression turned suspicious in its own right. "What are you hiding?"

Qrow bit the inside of his cheek, looking over to the floor. "Look, I don't know how to say this, so I'll just, well, _say it_." Qrow met Ironwood eyes, barely keeping his glare in check. "I'm on a date."

Ironwood's eyes widened in shock. "You have friends?"

"Why, yes, he does!" Roman said, an eerily cheery cadence to his voice. He clapped Ironwood on the shoulders, causing both James and Qrow to jump in their seats. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here, General, but I must say, you _are_ in my seat. Care to stand?"

It wasn't a question.

Ironwood rose to his feet, bewilderment written all over his face. Before he could say a word, Roman had slipped into his chair, balancing his chin on his palm. He shot Qrow a darling smile, which the Huntsman didn't return.

"Are you crazy?" Qrow and Ironwood both asked at the same time, for entirely different reasons.

A slight blush tinged Qrow's cheeks, but Roman waved Ironwood off with a magnanimous hand. "I have my moments, General, but I do think _you're_ the crazy one for barging in on our meal." Roman shot James an innocent smile, to wit the man blinked in shock.

"I should arrest you."

"Qrow's said much the same. Luckily, I happen to have a _lovely_ personality."

Qrow groaned and put his head in his hands, a slight whimper escaping him. Qrow felt Roman touch his arm, but he didn't bother to look up.

"Seriously, General, what could possibly be so important that you had to interrupt our date?" Roman asked, his tone so offended it was as if James had insulted his mother. Blindsided, Ironwood shook his head, thrown completely off his game.

"Nothing I'm going to discuss with the likes of you," Ironwood snapped, once he had recovered from the _personality_ that was Roman Torchwick. By that time, Qrow had pulled out his Scroll, ignored his alerts from James, and sent a quick texts to Ozpin and Glynda. The point of the messages was clear-cut and simple: keep the cops from coming down on the restaurant due to James overreacting. Neither needed to know more.

Well, Qrow was pretty sure Ozpin had already figured out that something had changed in his life, but the man was too polite to ever ask outright, unless something drastic went down.

Qrow hoped this _chance encounter_ wouldn't be it. By no means did he want to have _that_ conversation. Once the little 'delivered' notification popped up, Qrow raised his head to see James' hand twitch dangerously toward where he kept his gun.

"Jimmy," Qrow cut in, before either man could shoot the other. There really was no getting out of the meeting tonight. "We can talk about this later." Qrow met Ironwood's eyes, meaning shining from within. "Deal with it then, and quit spreading negativity."

The General balked, but settled down with a frown. "I expect a full report," he said, trying to regain some symbolism of sensibility and class. He took a few steps around Roman, gazing at the criminal with hate in his eyes. "And this one to be behind bars."

Roman gave Ironwood a small wave of goodbye, only serving to anger the man more with his angelic, innocuous smile. "Have a _lovely_ day, General," Roman called after him, before turning back to Qrow. His expression fell into seriousness, leaning forward on the table. "Should we -"

"We're safe to finish the meal," Qrow muttered, leaning back and running a hand over his face. "I'm so sorry about him. He's usually this much of an ass, but I didn't expect. . ." Qrow lowered his hand and gazed around the room, a guilt-ridden blush covering his cheeks. Most of the patrons had gone back to their meals, but not without a few rude and scathing glances sent their way. "This."

"It's fine," Roman reassured him, a soft smile slipping onto his face. It soon turned wicked. "It was awful fun messing with him."

Qrow snorted slightly, picking his fork back up and listlessly stabbing at his food. "Won't disagree there."

Roman frowned as Qrow's mood plummeted. He reached out and took his lover's hand, stroking his thumb over the back of Qrow's palm. "Hey, chickadee," Roman said, and Qrow flicked his eyes up. The smirk blossoming on Roman's face sent a chill down Qrow's spine. "He said 'full report', didn't he?"

Qrow blinked and nodded, propping his head up on his palm as Roman leaned closer across the table. Roman's lips grazed across his before he pulled back, and Qrow grinned as he began to catch on to what Roman was selling him. It was a devilish idea, as was standard.

"Why don't we give him something to remember?~"


	8. Day Eight - On A Rainy Day

There's not much to do on a rainy day. There's never been much to do.

Visit a grave, say your goodbyes, turn away from the loss because what did it ever mean anyway? What did anything mean? Lost love that was doomed from the start, doomed in kisses and smoke and drink and too much lust to ever develop safely - doomed from two worlds that had never been meant to collide in the first place.

He doesn't blame Ruby, of course. Like always, he blames himself.

What else could he have done? Been better. Spent less on drink. Given him more time, instead of going to his own shitty apartment and drinking himself stupid after missions, only to turn up slurred and needy, forcing Roman to bring him up from that low and then tear him down again in every lovely way possible.

He doesn't blame Ruby. He blames himself for not sticking around after Amber fell, for not sensing Cinder's Aura and killing her then and there. He blames himself for the Wyvern, for the Grimm that had taken over Roman's penthouse and trashed all his books, his trinkets, his every memory. He blames himself for not making Roman trust him, for not convincing Roman enough that he wouldn't turn around and turn the man in once they were done. He blames himself for joking about the airship, for not picking up on the hints about security, how their last words to each other were 'stay safe'.

 _What a way to break up. . ._

Qrow falls to his knees in the mud, away from every other person and so far, the Grimm. Summer's grave lies before him, gray and bleak, and Qrow regrets that for every person he lost, there had never been a body. Rain falls from the sky, and Qrow doesn't even care that he's soaked. He cares that it would've been Roman who took his clothes off, scolding him for ruining the fabric. Scolding him for getting his carpet full of rain water. Scolding him for turning up unwanted on the balcony over and over and over again, until that scowl turned into the fondest of smiles whenever he showed up like the bad omen he was.

 _Piss drunk and screaming into the night. . ._

Qrow closes his eyes, tears mixing with the rain. It hurts only a little bit less than Summer, but that doesn't mean he stops crying. It's not like he can make a grave for Roman anyway, so the best he can do is turn up at Summer's and pretend she's still there to make him feel less like shit.

 _Why did he always have to fall for the people who were so damned understanding?_

He's left his flask back with Tai, and the pain of his head clearing, the shaking, the blood churning in his veins, isn't enough of a distraction. Blacking out with the cream liqueur and the memories Roman gave him isn't enough of a distraction. _Getting struck by lightning_ wouldn't be enough of a distraction.

Qrow throws his head back and wonders just how cruel Ozpin's Brother Gods are, to take away something so precious. Maybe it's because Roman was inherently evil - but then again, so was Qrow. Or maybe those two were just right bastards.

Qrow wants to say it's the latter, but he only blames himself. What else can he do?

There's not much to do on a rainy day, after all. The most he and Roman ever did was curl up on his extremely expensive couch, trading drinks and kisses until they were too high on each other to do much else. The least he and Roman ever did was pass each other in the street, with small glances and smaller smiles, Qrow with a hand on his sword and Roman with his hand on a girl not much younger than himself.

Qrow had never met her, and he wonders if she mourns.

Apparently Ruby had fought her, thrown her into the void, and that had set off Roman. She admitted to never looking back as the airship crashed, never looking back as she went on to find Weiss. Qrow doesn't blame her, of course. Ruby hadn't known. But Qrow does - he knows how Roman could love, could care, could break through defenses with one quick quip and leave anyone and everyone around him charmed. Qrow supposes the girl must mourn, too, if she was even still alive.

It had rained after Beacon. It was raining now, too.

Qrow looks to the sky, blinking away the pain that eats him from the inside out, consuming him over and over and over again, just like with Summer. He doesn't remember what her Aura feels like, nor Roman's. He can't. He won't. He refuses to remember. Each drop pelts him though, each drop a stinging reminder of what he lost - how Qrow will always, always lose.

Qrow knows he shouldn't try. ' _One should never do anything on a rainy day_ ,' Roman had said, shooting a smile over his shoulder as he grabbed himself and Qrow a few glasses. ' _You'd be wasting the opportunity_.'

Qrow knows he never had one to begin with. There was nothing to do on a rainy day, and there had never been anything anyone could do for Qrow Branwen.


	9. Day Nine - Hanging Out With Friends

The Xiao Long-Rose household loomed before the pair, glowing softly as the sun set behind it. Roman sighed as he followed Qrow up the pathway, gaze impassive as the Hunter rapped his knuckles against the wood. Qrow stepped back, rocking on the balls of his feet as he shot Roman a small, tight smile.

Roman's face, conversely, remained impassive, even as the door swung open. Taiyang ushered them both in with a smile, and Roman responded with a polite nod, but there was no mistaking the flash of suspicion in his blue eyes. Out of the corner of Roman's eye, he noticed the pair exchange a hug, and he let a smile slip loose. At least their evening wouldn't be awkward.

"So," Qrow began, separating from Taiyang and heading off to the living room. He plopped down on the couch, motioning Roman over to him. Roman gracefully took a seat after leaving Melodic Cudgel next to where Qrow had dropped Harbinger. "Where's Yang and Ruby?"

"Off at a friend's house," Taiyang answered, dragging in a chair from what was evidently the kitchen. "Birthday party/sleepover mix. The girls took Zwei with them, too." Taiyang took a seat to the left of Roman and Qrow, and Roman decided not to focus on the fact that he was sat between two deadly Huntsmen.

"Sounds perfect," Qrow said, cracking a smile. He knocked Roman on the arm lightly as he leaned forward to grab the remote from the coffee table. "Lighten up, Rome." Qrow got comfortable on the couch, flicking through the channels. "He's not gonna hurt you."

"We simply haven't been introduced," Roman said, shrugging off any tension in his shoulders. He held his hand out to Taiyang, who took it and shook it with intimidating strength. "Roman Torchwick," he said with one of his classic smiles.

Taiyang returned his smile with equal warmth, dropping his hand. "Taiyang Xiao Long. I gotta say, you have quite the reputation. It's hard _not_ to have heard of you."

Qrow rolled his eyes to the sky. "I didn't bring you here so you could scare him, Tai."

Roman raised an eyebrow, unable to keep from responding in kind. "Most people have." He cocked his head, a smirk on his lips. "And _I've_ heard of _you_."

Taiyang shot Qrow a playful glare. "All good things, I hope?"

"Well, I'm not gonna call you a bastard behind your back," Qrow said, perking up and grinning back at Taiyang. "I'd say it your face."

Roman repressed a laugh, hiding it behind his hand. Taiyang, on the other hand, didn't hesitate, snorting and shaking his head. "Oh, _please_. Which of us didn't have parents again?"

As Qrow sat fully up and shot back at Taiyang with equal mirth, Roman blinked in surprise. It wasn't often he learned things about Qrow, let alone something so _personal_ about his past. He settled back on the couch, giving Qrow and Taiyang more room to banter between each other. Roman smiled as the pair exchanged barbs, cutting in every once and a while to help Taiyang tease Qrow.

Eventually, Qrow groaned and threw his head back, slouching against the cushions in mock defeat. He grabbed Roman's hand, staring at the him with betrayal in his eyes. "You're _supposed_ to be on my side," Qrow accused, glaring. He raised their conjoined hands and shook them, staring Roman in the eye. "This is supposed to mean something, you know!"

"And give up on _this_?" Roman asked as Taiyang guffawed. Roman shook his head and dropped Qrow's hand, a chuckle leaving him. "I don't think so."

"You're both evil, y'know that?" Qrow asked, fake hurt entering his voice. He shook his head and stood, heading to the kitchen and waving them off. "I'm getting us drinks. Maybe you two will be a bit _nicer_!" he called over his shoulder, but Roman heard the smile in his voice.

He ducked his head with a laugh, allowing the mood to mellow as Qrow messed about in the kitchen. Roman relaxed back into Taiyang's couch, and he shot the man a smile. However, Taiyang didn't return it, choosing to look over at where they could see Qrow's figure, before switching his gaze back to Roman. Roman kept his expression unfazed, raising an eyebrow.

Taiyang sighed and crossed his arms, raising his own eyebrows in return. "Lemme ask you a question."

"Go on."

"You really don't know much about him, do you?"

Roman blinked, a small frown forming. "I don't see why I _should_."

Taiyang finally returned the smile, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "It'll help," he promised, cutting his eyes over where Melodic Cudgel lay. Taiyang looked at Roman, and the smile on his face gave Roman nothing but a strong sense of suspicion. "How long have you and Qrow been together?"

Roman, distinctly unsettled, responded, "Soon to be half a year. Why?"

Taiyang nodded and settled back on his chair, regarding Roman with a worldly eye. "I think it's time you heard The Story, then."

"What story?" Qrow asked re-entering the room, while Roman remained flabbergasted.

Taiyang shot Qrow a completely innocent smile that neither man trusted for more than a second. Qrow sat the drinks tray down, eyes narrowing with suspicion, and with what Roman thought looked oddly like _hate_. Taiyang reached forward and snagged a cup, taking a sip before replying. "You know the one."

Qrow went still, his hand freezing as he reached for his own drink. Roman watched as red slowly crept up and into Qrow's cheeks. Slowly, Roman started to smile. Whatever Taiyang was on about, it was definitely going to be fun.

"What's he talking about, chickadee?" Roman asked casually, grabbing his own liquor and settling back down on the couch.

Qrow turned even redder at the nickname, shaking his head and trying to bury himself back-first into the couch. He clutched his drink in his hand, refusing to meet Roman's eye. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

Roman turned to Tai, doing his best to keep his poker face up and not let the wide smile he was fighting back break through. Fake concern wrought its way over his face. "Qrow's not usually this shy," he confessed, perfectly playing the part of worried boyfriend. "Did something happen?"

"Oh, something _definitely_ happened.~"

"I'm going to kill you," Qrow said, a petulant note entering his voice. His brows knit together as he scowled, taking a fortifying sip of his whiskey.

"And what, leave Ruby and Yang bereft?"

"They don't need you."

"Qrow!" Roman scolded, letting his scandalized tone speak for itself. Roman knew it was just banter, of course -Tai was still smiling, after all- but the path they were on seemed just too delicious to deny.

"Pretty rude of you," Taiyang affirmed, taking another drink. "Should probably tell that story as an apology."

"You can't make me," Qrow spat, sitting up straighter. The red had vanished a tad from his cheeks, but defiant embarrassment still colored his tone.

" _I_ can."

Qrow chirped in surprise, turning to Roman with a shocked whine. "Roman!"

"Am I incorrect?" the man in question asked, raising a brow as he took another sip from his drink, proper as could be.

Qrow grimaced, setting his jaw and looking toward the floor. "Well, no," he admitted, voice going back to its usual gruffness as he fell back on the couch. He took another drink from his glass. "I just don't like talking about it. It's embarrassing."

"I can see that."

By this point, Taiyang had gotten comfortable in his chair, drink in hand and smile on face. It was damn near impossible for Qrow to find a man he was willing to date, what with Raven having run interference at school, his hang-ups about his Semblance, and his workload for Ozpin. For Roman to be six months in and able to redden him with just a name was a miracle at the _least_. And with a weapon like _that_. . . Well, Taiyang wasn't the type of man who would miss out and let this opportunity slide without helping. "Well?" Taiyang prompted, as Qrow ducked his head to avoid Roman's gaze. "I'll tell if you don't.~"

Qrow sighed and drank again, shifting a bit in his spot. He gestured toward Taiyang with a flippant hand, defeated. "This bastard tricked me into wearing a skirt for like, the entire first week at Beacon. Initiation, landing strategy, all of it."

Taiyang turned his gaze to Roman, who had set his drink down back on the tray. His eye had widened, and his mouth had fallen into a shocked little 'o'. Unbidden, he frowned. If this went south, Taiyang wouldn't hesitate to toss Roman right into the sea. However, Roman had instead tilted Qrow back on the couch by his shoulder, holding him to the plush cushions. Roman, now lost in his own world, drank in every detail of Qrow's legs, before leaning back with a predatory smirk. Qrow's own eyes went wide, and he wet his lips, breathing now labored.

Roman turned back to Taiyang with such a cheery expression on his face that he suddenly wondered if the man had been possessed. "You made the right decision. He'd look fantastic!"

"What!" Qrow chirped, voice cracking slightly. Conversely, Taiyang burst out laughing.

"I think I actually might have it lying around somewhere, packed up with all our old Beacon stuff," Taiyang teased, to Roman's utter delight. Qrow meanwhile, had sat up and sat his drink down, glaring daggers at Taiyang and trying to interrupt before their conversation could humiliate him even further.

"No need," Roman said gaily, picking up his drink and crossing his legs. One sip and a twinkle later, Roman was looking at Qrow like he couldn't wait to undress him. "I know a good seamstress. Beacon's skirt color is red, right? Matches his eyes."

"That it is," Taiyang affirmed, much to Qrow's horror.

"Absolutely not," Qrow interjected, finally putting his two cents in. "I'm not wearing it again. You had your fun twenty years ago."

"Oh, but chickadee, you'd look so _good_ ," Roman said, and his tone made Qrow falter. "You definitely have the thighs for it."

"The girls back at Beacon said the same," Taiyang pointed out.

Qrow huffed and downed the rest of his whiskey, refusing to engage with their nonsense.

Roman shrugged and shot Tai a smile, letting Qrow ignore them both. Red still colored his face, but Roman had an amazing eye for detail. Taiyang chuckled and placed his own empty glass down next to Qrow's, and Roman's soon followed. Taiyang grabbed the tray and stood, making his way back to the kitchen. Qrow had settled himself into the couch cushions, arms crossed and his lips screwed up in consternation.

"Thank you," Roman said after a small silence had passed between them. Qrow started and looked up, mouth falling open. Roman reached over and grabbed his hand, raising it up and pressing his lips to Qrow's knuckles. "You really didn't have to share. Teasing is only teasing."

Qrow looked off to the side before closing the distance between their bodies. "Yeah, well. . ." he stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "I would've never admitted it on my own. So I'm glad you like it." Roman opened his mouth, but Qrow cut him off by brushing their lips together. "If you really want, I'll wear it," he whispered, glancing over his shoulder to spy Taiyang running water into the glasses. Qrow looked back to Roman, going red once more. Thankfully, this time it was due to wicked delight.

Roman sighed and leaned his forehead against Qrow's, a slight laugh leaving him. One hand travelled up the back of Qrow's shirt, causing a shiver. "Oh, chickadee, _do I_.~"


	10. Day Ten - First Pet Child

Roman locked the door to his penthouse, sighing as he dropped his keys down on the fireplace mantle. Cinder had been a right pain in the ass, as usual, and now that he had arrived home, Roman just wanted to _relax_.

As usual, the Fates were against him. As Roman set Melodic Cudgel down and began undoing his jacket, he heard Qrow shout out. Roman turned to his left, surprise being the first emotion to cross his mind. By no means had he expected Qrow to arrive before him. The next emotion was anger.

With a bang and a bark, Roman crashed back-first into his door, sliding down onto the ground. He blinked, shifting past the sudden wave of pain as he got a good look at the monster standing on his chest.

"Zwei!" Qrow called out, trying to contain his laughter and burgeoning horror. "No! Sit!"

The corgi immediately plopped down on Roman's lap, tongue lolling out as he gazed up at Roman. Before he could shove the offending animal off of his person, Qrow had arrived and scooped the little mongrel up in his arms.

"No," Qrow scolded, but Zwei just rolled onto his back in his hold, woofing. "You can't just jump on people." Qrow held out his hand to Roman, who took it and was thusly pulled into a standing position. "I'm so sorry about him," Qrow apologized, and Roman busied himself with brushing his jacket off. "Zwei just gets excited around new people."

"Qrow," Roman began, very slowly, as if he was talking to an extremely unintelligent child. "Why is there a dog in my apartment?"

Qrow blinked and stood up a bit, cradling Zwei. "Mine doesn't allow pets and Tai is chaperoning Ruby and Yang's Signal trip. I won't be on call for a week, so I thought I'd bring him here."

Roman took a deep breath and finished undoing his overcoat, hanging it up next to Qrow's cape in the small closet across from the fireplace. He took off his hat and gloves next, counting down from ten to calm himself. Roman slipped a cigar from his jacket's pocket and put it in his pants', knowing he'd need a smoke after this.

He turned back to Qrow with a tight-lipped smile. Qrow, wisely, went on guard.

"And you didn't think to ask me? Seeing as it's _my fucking apartment_?"

Qrow's face fell, and he let Zwei hop on to the ground. He started sniffing around Roman's legs, and it took him everything he had not to punt the dog right into Qrow. The man in question had shoved his hands into his pockets, guilt written all over his face. "Just thought you'd like to meet him. I'd take him back to Tai's, but then I wouldn't be able to spend the week with you, and you traveling to back and forth to Patch isn't viable -"

Roman cut right through the bullshit. "So what you're saying is you're keeping a dog in my apartment, without asking me, for a week." Roman stood tall, and while he was shorter than Qrow, the elder man still grimaced.

"Not a week. Just like, a day or two." Qrow's face fell, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry. I shoulda asked."

"No fucking shit!" Roman exploded, before taking another deep breath and running a hand over his face. Zwei barked beneath him, and Roman shot the dog a glare. It grinned back, causing Roman to severely reevaluate his stance on if he allowed blood to get on his carpet.

"I'm going for a smoke," he announced, brushing past Qrow and through his living room. He slid open the balcony door, resisting the urge to slam it closed. It _was_ made of glass, after all. "If that **thing** pisses on _anything_ , you're paying for it!" Roman called over his shoulder, barely keeping a shudder at bay as his mind wandered to whatever _else_ that animal could do.

Qrow frowned and bent down next to Zwei, scratching him behind the ears. "Sorry, buddy," he apologized, glancing through the glass at Roman bent over the railing, smoke curling around his head. "I thought he'd like you." Qrow gave Zwei a bitter smile, but the corgi just woofed and licked Qrow's face. He huffed out half a laugh, rubbing Zwei's back. "Guess we'll just have to convince him, huh?"

Zwei barked in agreement, wagging his stubby little tail.


End file.
